Strongest of the Warlocks
by shinigamigirl196
Summary: Merlin tried to flee from her destiny after Morgause's immortal army was defeated, but the knights still found her, now her only hope is to prove to the prince that she hasn't enchanted him and that her magic has been used for the good of Camelot. She can only hope that she won't be burned at the stake for the truths she tells. FemMerlin
1. Beyond the Comforts of Home

**Disclaimer: BBC owns Merlin**

**Strongest of the Warlocks: Chapter One: Beyond the Comforts of Home**

**AN: This is a very mild attempt at a FemMerlin. I have absolutely nothing against Merlin being a guy and pairing him with a guy, in fact, I am addicted to it. And while I do love those pairings, I am absolutely terrible at writing them, hence why Merlin is a girl.**

**This fic begins at the end of Season 3 about two or three months before Season 4 starts (remember there is a year gap between them).**

**The reason that Merlin is being referred to as a warlock and not a witch is just because I thought warlock implied more power.**

* * *

Merlin took only a few steps towards the blood-filled Cup of Life when a force grabbed her from behind, lifting her off her feet to send her crashing into a pillar, making pain explode in her head as the world faded around her into darkness.

It seemed like such a long time before her eyes fluttered open, and she had to blink a few times to clear her vision, because she was somehow on the steps that led to the dungeon, watching as the knights, watching as Arthur, Elyan, Leon, Gwaine, and Percival was boxed in, fighting a losing battle against an enemy that could not be killed. And she did something that she would later regret.

She was a piercing sort of scream that echoed in silence and reverberated into the very soul. She could see Arthur's eyes widen as her eyes bled gold and the enemies were thrown back at the force of the raw magic.

But then she opened her eyes and she hadn't moved at all, and Morgause was holding out her hand in front of her with a sarcastic grin. "I have a feeling I won't be seeing you again," she all but purred.

"No you won't." Merlin's eyes flickered to the voice in surprise, staring up at her uncle Gaius in shock. Wasn't he supposed to stay with Gwen in the ancient castle? Well, perhaps not following orders ran in the family, then. _**"Oferswinge!"**_

Morgause gave a soft cry of surprise and perhaps a little pain as she was flung through the air, but the attack only stunned her, and the blonde-haired sorceress was on her feet again within seconds, directing her next attack against Gaius, when Merlin flung an arm at her, sending her flying a second time, this time her head cracking against the harsh stone. She crumpled to the floor and did not stir.

Had she killed her? Merlin could feel the bile rising in her throat. She hadn't meant to! Then she felt miserable; that was just a confirmation of Arthur's beliefs that magic was evil.

"Merlin! The cup!" But she didn't have time to worry about that right now, other lives were at stake. She pulled herself up with difficulty, lurching to her feet, and stumbling to grab Excalibur where it had fallen, and using one strike to send it from the pedestal, the blood painting across a nearby pillar.

It was only much later that Merlin found some time to herself. The night was still dark, though the illumination of torchlight gave off the illusion of sunlight.

"Might I sit?"

Merlin's heart stuttered faintly at the sound of his gruff voice, the same voice that always sent shivers down her spine. She looked up, her eyes meeting Percival's and she smiled. "Since when have you needed permission?"

He sat with an echoing rich laugh. "It is always good to ask for permission."

She spared him a softer smile. "I suppose you really haven't changed, have you?"

"I try not to," Percival said, dropping a hand to cover hers, making a heat rise in her cheeks. "I did not get the chance to mention earlier…but you have grown more beautiful."

Merlin blushed much harder as he actually said the word "beautiful". "Well, I, er, I'm not quite sure that's, er, the right term to use," Merlin stumbled over her words.

"It's the best term to use in reference to you," Percival disagreed with a smile, "do you remember the last time we saw each other?"

"A few hours ago?" she piped up with an arched eyebrow before laughing at the look in his eye. "Its been years, hasn't it? Sometimes I'd look for your face in the crowd at Ealdor."

"I understand the feeling," he said, his voice low as he cupped her cheek, well aware of how her breath hitched at the movement, "but I could not linger."

"I know," she said, "and I'm sure that Arthur's grateful that you taught me how to better use my sword."

"He should be," Percival laughed. "You were terrible!"

"Oi! Shut it!" Merlin snapped back but without any bite. "Remember I'm the one who saved your sorry hide."

"I never forgot." There was something in his eyes, something that made her quite unable to move as he leaned forward to brush his lips against hers. Merlin couldn't resist a sigh, remembering the last time he had kissed her so long ago…it must have been three years at least. And it had been a kiss of farewell, much like this one was.

"Where will you go?" he whispered once they had parted. Merlin gave him a wry smile at how he effortlessly read her mind, yet again.

"I do not know," she mused aloud. "Somewhere peaceful, and free, somewhere close to the water, somewhere close to…Avalon." She grinned, kissing his cheek lightly. "I'm sure Arthur is still looking for me, so I'll have to move quickly, but we'll see each other again, I promise."

But there was something in her eyes, something sad that made him question what she was saying.

"Stay safe," he said simply.

Merlin couldn't help but laugh brightly at that comment as she stood up and stretched. "Me?" she chortled. "I'm always safe." And she tossed him a cheeky grin as she vanished inside of the castle once more.

Practically the whole castle was asleep by now, which was very good for her; better to leave when hardly anyone could see her vanishing. She had already wasted so much time by carefully avoiding Arthur, which was a far more difficult task than it seemed. At one point, she was actually hiding in Killgharrah's old chamber, but she hadn't been much of a fan of it and had left within half an hour.

However, that did not mean that patrols were not still passing through the halls, because they were. But, luckily for Merlin who had walked the halls countless times and had long since memorized the rotations, they were easy to evade, especially since they weren't looking for her, at least, not yet.

She unlocked the door into Gaius' chamber and was not surprised at the since. It was, after all, quite late. The only sound that could be heard was a soft whistling that could be heard coming from her late uncle where he was fast asleep on a workbench with bandages and empty potion bottles scattered around him. Merlin couldn't help but smile fondly at the man, but she still moved past him without speaking or thinking a word towards him.

She left all of her clothes behind (what little she owned of them) including the neckerchiefs that she was so fond of, save for her sturdy boots that she could not bear to part with. Her book of magic would be going with her too as well as all her medicinal supplies that she had brought with her and a few scraps of food to last her until she could hunt for her own.

She spared her uncle Gaius a smile as she curled his fingers around a folded piece of parchment as he slept on.

"Goodbye, Uncle," she whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of his head where it rested atop his arm. "Rest well."

That only left one more thing for her to do.

There was stone and rubble everywhere in the throne room, she was actually surprised that it wasn't being guarded at all, but there wasn't really a need to, now was there? It wasn't as though there was anything of value in the throne room, at least, not with all of the destruction that had been done to it.

But where was it? Where was-?

A shine of metal caught her eye and she moved slowly over a fallen pillar to lift it into the light.

The Cup of Life.

She could see her reflection in it, a girl of nineteen summers with blue eyes as dark as the ocean during a storm and long black hair falling out of her tight braid.

"_Emrys. The cup is in your care now. Guard it well. The future of this land depends on it."_

So much depending on something so small…but she would take it with her and guard it with her life if she had to as Iseldir had told her to. She undid the last of her braid as she shoved the cup into her bag before pulling the hood up over her face and moving quickly out of the door and through the empty corridor.

The halls were dark as she moved through them, surprisingly silent for one who was often regarded as clumsy.

"You're leaving."

She froze mid-step at the all too-familiar voice of one of Prince Arthur's closest confidants, Sir Leon. She could not bring herself to speak, so she remained standing where she was.

"Merlin?"

"Yes," she said jerkily, turning back to look him in the eye, and he was startled. The hood of her cloak hardly obscured her face. The sharp, pale cheekbones were as obvious as the deep blue of her eyes like sapphires on a moon. "I am leaving before I must in a coffin."

"Merlin," Leon tried to speak, but she cut him off.

"Don't," she said, sounding pained, "please don't, Leon. I don't want him to have to choose between keeping me on while knowing who I am, _what_ I am, or killing me for being a-a warlock."

"Merlin," he jogged up to her so that he was facing her, "our Sire will not-"

"Won't he?" she asked sadly, one of the tears that had been hanging desperately to her eyes fell down a cheek. She smiled up at him, gripping his shoulder tightly and leaning upwards to kiss his cheek. "Look after yourself, Leon."

"And what should I tell Percival?" he couldn't resist asking. Leon watched as her expression faltered at the mention of the man who had completely captured her heart. "I've seen the way you look at each other…you cannot just be old friends."

She bit down on her lip slightly. "Oh, but we are. Perhaps we could have been something more, but times change. It would be better if one wasn't to engage into a relationship with a known Warlock." It was a vain thought, she knew, after all, she had just kissed the man (or he kissed her, if you wanted to be specific), but it was also very true.

"Maybe he doesn't see it that way," Leon said, watching her eyes closely. "You do not have an evil heart, Merlin, magic has not made you a bad person."

"Magic hasn't made me into anything but who I am," Merlin snapped. She pressed two fingers to his forehead, and before he could say anything, she murmured two words, her eyes burning gold briefly. _**"Onslæp nu." **_

She barely caught him as he fell asleep from her spell, laying him gently down onto the ground.

"Goodbye, Leon," she whispered, "Live well."

No one would notice that she was gone for a good while, at least that was the hope. But they would be looked for a young woman with tightly bound hair and wearing more masculine clothes, they wouldn't be looking for a young woman wearing a long dress and cloak with unbound hair.

"Halt!"

Merlin kicked her faithful horse, Triton's, sides with a few whispers of her ancient tongue and she surged past them before they could even shout a warning, racing through the gates and out of Camelot. It pained her in a way that she could not possibly describe to leave the castle behind. It had been her home for more than a year, but she wouldn't take back anything that she had done, even if it meant that she had to flee.

Even if it meant that Arthur would hate her for as long as she lived.

Even if it meant not seeing Percival again for quite some time.

So she clung tightly to the horse, following the path until she came across a divergence. She glanced back towards the castle, almost mournfully. Arthur wouldn't have raised the alarm for a simple maidservant, and for once she was grateful of her inferior birth if no other reason than it would allow her to travel farther without interference from the Knights of Camelot.

She turned back around and gasped, almost falling off her horse in the process as it seemed that a number of people had surrounded her in a matter of seconds. She struggled to free her sword where it was attached to her saddle when a man at the front lifted his hood to reveal the only familiar face.

"Iseldir!" she gasped out his name in surprise. He had visited her several times in her childhood. Her mother had told her that it was Iseldir that had helped in her birth, and his visits were to watch how her magic grew over time. But she could never be sure if any of its growth had been good or bad.

"Lady Emrys." He said the name that the Druids called her with a practiced tongue. "We have been awaiting you." He inclined his head slightly in respect. "Please." He extended his hand to her, and without much hesitation, Merlin grasped it, and thus left the name Merlin behind her.

"I want her found!" Arthur's voice echoed with anger, the noise reverberating in the mostly silent room.

"Sire," Leon said, bowing his head slightly, having recovered from the sleep spell that Merlin had cast upon him the night previously, "Merlin is well endowed with the ability to hide in plain sight. If she doesn't want to be found, she won't be."

"You're telling me that I should just abandon her?" Arthur demanded, slamming his hand onto the table in anger. "She's saved my life more times than I can count! She's more than just a servant, she's _my_ servant and she's far more loyal than the lot of you!"

Silence followed his words and he sighed, ready to take them back, but Gwaine stepped forward. "You're right," he said, "she is more loyal than any of us, Princess, so you have to ask yourself why she would be running in the first place." He gave him a rather significant look. "We were all there."

_Merlin came down the stairs took one look at the knights cornered in the cell by Cenred's knights and screamed. The scream echoed so loudly that Arthur could have sworn that it cracked the windows as Cenred's soldiers reeled backwards and he and his knights clutched their ears to drown out the sound. By the time he looked up, she had gone. _

"She thinks you'll execute her," Lancelot added. "She knows what Camelot sees of magic and it is not good." He didn't bother mentioning that Merlin had been with him, attempting to spill the blood from the Cup of Life and couldn't have been where they had seen her. But what was done was done. Perhaps she had projected herself to Arthur's side, but Lancelot could not be completely sure.

Arthur gritted his teeth in true anger. He hated magic, hated it with a burning passion. So the knowledge that Merlin had magic this whole time was the ultimate betrayal, but he couldn't forget the good that she had done, the sacrifices she had made for him, the loyalty she had shown him. All he wanted now was an explanation from her.

"Do you think I would execute her?" he asked lowly.

"Wouldn't you?" Lancelot asked with an arched eyebrow. "After all, those that use magic are executed."

"If I may be frank, Sire?" Leon interjected smoothly, drawing all eyes to him. "I think there is a different matter at hand to consider. I believe that Merlin has known for quite some time of the true nature of Lady Morgana."

"Then why wouldn't she tell anyone?" Elyan queried with curiosity.

Arthur's face darkened as he remembered the serious expression on her face when she had said that she had been dying, but he had laughed it off. After all, who would want to kill a lowly servant like Merlin? But Merlin wasn't lowly at all, she was in training to be the next Court Physician and she had magic! A combination not to be taken lightly.

"It is possible that Lady Morgana had been threatening her to keep her silence."

A glare settled onto Arthur's face. "I want her found," he said lowly, "and knowledge of her magic will not leave this room, am I clear?"

Sirs Leon, Elyan, Percival, Lancelot, and Gwaine gave a murmured assent, bowing as the Prince of Camelot left, and the other knights followed suit, except for Leon and Percival.

Leon gripped Percival's shoulder in a movement that should have been reassuring but wasn't really. "We'll find her, Percival."

"I do not question if we will find her," Percival said in a low voice, "only if she will want to be."

So Sir Leon left him to his thoughts, his mind lingering on the first time that he had met the young warlock.

_The last thing that Percival remembered was a pair of eyes the color of sapphires, and then nothing, so when he woke up startled in a stranger's home, the first thing he tried to do was sit up._

"_Hey! What in the name of the stars above are you doing?" A voice demanded. "Do you know how hard it took me to work on that wound of yours?"_

_He stared. The eyes of cobalt from his memory were fiery as their owner glared at him without reservation. They belonged to a young girl who couldn't have been more than sixteen or seventeen summers. Her long black hair hung over her shoulder in a loose braid, contrasting with the fairness of her skin._

"_Don't answer that," she advised, grumbling to herself, "what would men know of dressing wounds, anyways? Roll onto your side."_

_He hardly had time to follow her orders before she did it for him, still grumbling about men. "You've reopened your injury," she noted wryly. "I need you to hold still. This will hurt."_

_He hissed as she brushed something that stung against his wound. _

"_Sorry," she apologized, not sounding quite so irate as before, and Percival couldn't help but glance up at her from his position, distinctly recognizing the tell-tale golden eyes of those who use magic. __**"Ahlúttre bá séocnes. Þurhhæle bræd."**_

_The pain lessened and she replaced the soiled bandage with a fresh one before returning him to lay face-up on the bed once more. "Is that better?" _

"_Yes," he rasped out, "thank you."_

_She gave him a soft smile that made her entire face seem much more pleasant than before. "It's no problem, it's kind of my job."_

_Percival looked at her up and down. "You are a physician?"_

"_In training," she added, cupping the back of his neck to lift it slightly in order to pour a bit of water down his throat. "What's your name?"_

"_Percival," he said, grateful that speaking was no longer as difficult, "and yours, Milady?"_

_Her fair cheeks burned a bright pink. "Oh, I'm not a lady at all, I'm just Merlin, its, er, nice to meet you, but, er, I have to go, I'll, er, check in with you soon." He could barely stifle his amusement as she all but threw herself from the room._

* * *

The months passed slowly for Arthur and his knights. Arthur himself had had to stop himself countless times from yelling her name, and Gwen had grown much more somber in the absence of her dear friend.

"All dead, except for I and Sir Cador," Sir Vidor said solemnly. "I fear we would have fallen as well if not for the Lady of Avalon."

"The who?" Arthur asked in confusion.

Vidor and Cador shared a glance. "We had heard tale of woman who now lives on the Isle of the Blessed, Sire, a woman with skills in healing. We would have been dead if she had not joined into the fight and defeated the last two of Cenred's men."

"This woman," Arthur said, "did you ever see her face?"

"No, Sire," Cador apologized swiftly, "she kept her hood up, but she did bear a strange crest. A white dragon circling a tower."

Arthur frowned. That was no crest that he had knowledge of; what was Merlin playing at?

"Thank you," he said, remembering the two knights before him that were waiting for a dismissal. "That will be all."

Could it really be Merlin, though? Would she really risk losing her cover for the sake of a few Knights of Camelot? Arthur hid a chuckle. Who did he think he was talking about? Merlin went above and beyond for Camelot, for him…He sighed deeply. Had it really been seven months since he had seen her last?

"Agravaine, can you find Leon for me? I have something I wish to discuss with him."

His uncle who had returned to Camelot once word had spread of Arthur ruling as regent in the stead of Uther after the betrayal of his half-sister Morgana, bowed his head respectfully and left to search for the knight in question.

"Sire?" Arthur's focus shifted once Leon stood before him.

"Collect Gwaine, Lancelot, Elyan, and Percival," he ordered of him, "we ride out at dawn."

Leon's eyes widened a fraction, but he did not comment while they were in the presence of others. "It will be done, Sire."

Arthur gave him a nod, striding out of the hall, only to be found in his chambers not twenty minutes later by Guinevere. While Arthur generally appreciated her presence, he was far too busy to take note of it this time.

"Gwen-"

"You've found her, haven't you?" Gwen's dark eyes were alight with hope. "I heard that the knights are preparing to leave at dawn. Does that mean you've found her?"

Arthur took both of her hands in his, ignoring the jolt that her touch sent through his body. "There is a rumor," he began slowly, "of a woman who could be Merlin."

Gwen's eyes filled with tears and Arthur was forcefully reminded that Merlin was her closest friend as well as his. "You'll bring her home?"

Arthur wanted dearly to say "Yes," but he wasn't sure if- "If its what she wants. Now I must pack. Was there anything else?"

"No, my lord," she said, a bit breathless with excitement now that the knowledge of Merlin's possible return. "But I do have a request."

Arthur could never resist her. "Name it."

Her dark eyes implored his. "Please take me with you."

Anything but that. "Gwen," Arthur sighed, "I need you here."

"But I'm sure if I'm there I can help convince her!" Gwen insisted. "I can show her that she still has a home in Camelot!"

"That's why I need you here," Arthur said in a voice that was far more gentle than he usually spoke in. "I want there to be someone here to welcome her home, someone who isn't Gaius."

Gwen bit her lip but she finally nodded. "You'll be safe, then? All of you?"

Arthur could hear Merlin's laughter. "_This is his royal Pratiness you are speaking of, Gwen. He doesn't even _know_ what safe is!"_

**AN: Alright, so, this isn't really going to be my main focus, because I'm really trying to finish Daughter of Rome, and I keep getting sidetracked, and I want to start Book Four in Looking Beyond. If this story is any good, I might work more on it, but until then, ta-ta! And, don't forget! REVIEW!**


	2. Road to the Isle of the Blessed

**Disclaimer: BBC owns Merlin**

**Strongest of the Warlocks: Chapter Two: Road to the Isle of the Blessed**

**AN: Thanks so much for the positive responses, it's given me a lot of hope for this fic! And thank you for the suggestions from ProcrastinationIsMyCrime and Viva my Vida, as you can probably guess from the chapter title, I've taken your suggestion to heart. I'm not sure how soon I'll update again, but I've got class on Monday, so I don't think it'll be very soon, since Looking Beyond and Sting of the Blade are pretty much the only fanfics I'm completely focusing on, but that doesn't mean I won't update this one! Please read and enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

"Lady Emrys." He said the name that the Druids called her with a practiced tongue. "We have been awaiting you." He inclined his head slightly in respect, much to her surprise. "Please." He extended his hand to her, awaiting her.

Merlin looked at the hand that Iseldir had offered, and without any second thoughts, she grasped it, allowing him to guide her down from the horse.

"We have been expecting you," he said calmly, bowing lowly, far enough that a healthy bit of color had risen in Merlin's cheeks.

"You have?" she couldn't help but ask, faintly startled as he led her off the path and into the wild, but he did not answer her. In fact, it was only once that they had reached the encampment for his clan and invited her to sit across from her before a small fire away from most of his clan.

She glanced at his figure through the flames. "How did you know where to find me?"

He only gave her a mysterious smile. "I know many things."

Irritation flashed in her eyes.

"One must wonder, though," he continued, "if it is execution you are running from, or your destiny."

Merlin couldn't help but glare into the fire, muttering mutinously, "Can it not be both?"

Iseldir's smile was wry. "At times it may seem so, but today I have a suggestion for you."

Merlin lifted her head, unable to stop the surprise from flooding her face and coloring her voice. "What kind of suggestion?" she asked.

"The road to priesthood."

She stared at him, for a moment thinking that he was joking, but Iseldir was not a man to jest. The journey to becoming a High Priestess was very difficult and involved one immersing herself very deeply into magic, and the only place to do that was at the Isle of the Blessed.

She bit down on her lip, unease flickering across her face. "I do not think that I am strong enough to become a High Priestess."

This idea seemed to amuse him. "You are known to us as the Great Emrys, the Greatest Warlock the world will ever know."

Merlin started slightly in surprise as he used the word Warlock. Females that were born with inherent magic skills were known as Witches, while the males were known as Warlocks, but Merlin had only mentioned to one person how much she preferred to be known as a Warlock than be known as a Witch.

"How did you know that I like to be called a Warlock over being called a Witch?" she asked cautiously.

Iseldir smiled that mysterious smile of his. "You are not known to us as the Greatest Witch because you do not want to be."

"But how could you possibly know that?" Merlin pressed. "I've only told Kilgharrah that." Granted, they hadn't spoken much on the subject, only enough for Merlin to ask him to never call her a Witch.

"You are a legend."

Merlin could feel her cheeks burning like the sun. "I'm-I'm not sure that's completely true," she disagreed, her voice darkening slightly. "I'm just a simple servant." Simple, foolish, never doing as she was told, in Arthur's words. She could not fit the criteria for a legend, that was Arthur, not her. It was never her.

"Simple, you are not," Iseldir disagreed. "Go to the Isle of the Blessed and you will see."

She looked into his eyes and she saw certainty there, certainty of who she was, certainty of who she would become, and so she stood and got right back on her horse and rode off in the direction of the Isle.

However, if she had been expecting to get there by nightfall, then she was foolishly mistaken, because by the time night had indeed fallen, she was still on her own with very few supplies, an ancient artifact and a book on magic in her bag, and hardly a change of clothes. And sadly, she was little closer to her destination than she had been hours previously.

"Rest, Triton," she murmured to the horse as she dismounted to stumble over to a tree to use as a chair of sorts to rest her back against. Merlin twirled her fingers slightly, feeling the familiar warmth of her magic as it cocooned her, her words whispered in a low hiss, indiscernible after years of practice to those who were not looking properly. It was a rather simply spell, one that she had learned many years ago, before her mother had sent her to Gaius to learn from him. She had never told her mother that some spells had come to her in her dreams, whispered as though they were deep secrets that belonged only to her.

This spell was one of invisibility that could hold even if the caster fell into a slumber. It would shield her and Triton from unwanted guests, even if those unwanted guests were trackers, they would never find them, that she was certain of.

The bark bit into Merlin's back through the dress (and oh how she was regretting changing into more feminine clothes, it would be the death of her, she swore!) as she pulled the spare cloak over her as a makeshift blanket.

She sat there for a very long time, her thoughts a muddle, the scent of the forest curling around her like woodsmoke from a freshly burning fire. She wanted nothing more than to sleep, but she remembered the look in Arthur's eyes when she had projected herself to him when he and the knights were about to be overrun by Morgause's army of immortal soldiers. She had seen the shock and confusion his bright eyes had reflected, but in the back of her mind she thought she saw betrayal and anger as well.

Would he not wish her dead? Would he not wish her put to death for her crimes of magic-usage within Camelot's borders?

He would not want her even remotely near him, she thought miserably to herself. It would have been better for the both of them if she was dead. Then her old friend would not have to search for a traitor to kill.

It was almost with great relief that sleep finally overtook her out of exhaustion if nothing else.

* * *

"Hold still, Will! You'll only make it worse!"

"Maybe I would if you didn't take so _bloody_ long!"

Merlin scowled in irritation at her oldest friend. William worked in the fields, like all the men of Ealdor did, but he was infinitely careless with his tools and came back to see her for want of medical attention every few days. Mostly they were small scratches, for which she was grateful, but some were a bit more serious.

"Maybe," she said through gritted teeth as she pressed a poultice firmly to his chest, "you wouldn't have anything to complain about if maybe, _I dunno,_ you actually knew what you were doing?"

They were now both glaring at each other with fires in their eyes that could perhaps ignite the village and burn it to the ground before Cenred could even notice a thing had changed.

So, rather than be thrown out, William held still, allowing her to finish her work and tie the bandage over his chest. It was only then that he spoke once more.

"So, who's the boy?"

"What boy?" she asked in a despairing voice that she could only gain from dealing with him. She tossed the blood-soiled rags into the fire as she cleared her work bench away, far more interested in the flask she had hanging lowly over a small fire, bubbling ominously with a sickly shade of grey as its color. But clearly it was the right color, because Merlin took a thick bottle and uncorked it, using a pair of tongs to remove the flask from the heat and pour it carefully into the container before placing the used flask to be washed in the sink after it had cooled.

"The boy you saved," William said, rolling his eyes in exasperation, "the one in the cot."

"Boy is hardly a term I would use to describe Percival," Merlin said in a mild voice, bending close to examine the mixture before eyeing a few similar potion-making instruments she had working around the room. How she kept all of them straight in her head, William did not know. "He is a man, a man in need of medical attention is still a man by age and by size, Will."

Will eyed her in curiosity and then his eyes all but popped out of his head as he gaped at her. "Oh my _God!_ You _like_ him!"

Merlin almost dropped the vial she was inspecting as she turned to him, completely red in the face. "What are you going on about?" she demanded, her voice a low hiss, a dangerous sign if he ever saw one. "I do _not!"_

"You do!" he accused. "You've fallen head over heels for that silent, but strong type that you said you never would!"

"Oh, shut up!" she barked, the desperation leaking into her voice as she glanced towards the back room where her patient was sleeping. Her magic told her that, thankfully, despite all of the racket that Will had caused, it hadn't been enough to wake him up. Thus, Merlin was spared of the embarrassment of having to explain herself to the man.

It didn't matter if she had a fondness for Percival, she was first and foremost a physician (or a healer, depending on who you asked) and she was not going to jeopardize the health of her patient because she had feelings for them.

"Just go, Will," she sighed, completely spent after a day of treating so many sick children, "and if you come back tomorrow, I'm poisoning you with undiluted hellebore."

Will knew a threat when he heard one. "Alright, alright," he conceded. "You win."

"I always win," she scoffed, replacing all of her herbs in their rightful places, only ceasing cleaning up when she knew that he was gone. She inhaled and exhaled deeply, steadying her heart as she spooned a bit of vegetable broth from the cauldron simmering over the fire into a crude wooden bowl. The tips of her fingers only burned slightly at the heat of the soup as she moved down the hall to where her patient was hardly stirring.

He smiled up at her as his awareness came more clearly. "Hello."

"Hello," she repeated with an almost shy smile. "How are you feeling today?"

"If I said better than yesterday, would you believe me?" Percival asked.

"Hm, possibly," Merlin hummed as she set the bowl of soup down beside him as she removed the bandage wrapped around him, inspecting the healing wound. "It is a little better than yesterday, but it'll still be a while before you can properly function completely."

"Wonderful," he muttered lowly, but Merlin still caught it.

"Do you have somewhere to be?" she asked with a quirked eyebrow as she had him lean forward slowly so that she could reposition his pillows behind him, helping him lean into them in more of a sitting position so that he could sip the broth without too much interference.

"Not particularly," he said giving a small wince as he moved, taking the bowl as she gave it to him, but his grip trembled.

"Careful!" Merlin reached out to steady his larger, stronger hands with her smaller ones. Her face flooded with heat at just how close to each other they were, how the very touch of his hands sent sparks of lightning through her body.

Percival had never noticed just how blue Merlin's eyes were.

"Sorry," she said quickly, hiding her face as she searched for his spoon.

"I'm never going to be able to repay you for all you've done," he said once her back was to him. "I owe you a life debt."

"No, really, you don't," Merlin was quick to disagree, her cheeks glowing once more, "really, it's no trouble…besides, I'm sure I can come up with a way for you to repay me."

"Oh?" Now he was curious.

"Just how good are you with the blade?"

* * *

Merlin didn't want to awaken the next day, but necessity demanded it. She simply could not afford to remain where she was in the situation that she had created for herself. The spell had held during the night, much to her silent relief. Her body ached from the combination of prolonged usage of magic and sleeping against a tree trunk the uncomfortable way that she had the previous night.

Merlin patted Triton's side softly. "Are you hungry and thirsty, Triton?"

The horse pawed at the ground, thrusting his great head upwards and downwards as if he was in agreement with her words. She smiled.

"Well, come along then, let's not see if we can't find some lovely water and hay for you to snack on." She didn't really even have to lead him by the reins, but she did anyway, needing her hands to be in control of something. It was times like this that she was grateful to not have Arthur around; he was always one for shattering silences and ruining moods. But Merlin liked the peace and quiet. She liked listening to the sound of the birds chirping in the trees and the sound of the wind whistling through the branches. It was magical.

Merlin chuckled softly to herself; it was decidedly strange for her to view it as magical when she did far more awing things with her magic, but it was the truth. Nature had always been magical to her, it was one of the things that had drawn her to herbology in the first place.

She murmured a short spell and the grass before them melded and faded, turning into hay. "Enjoy your lunch, I'm going to look ahead for some water."

She doubted that he heard her, far too interested in his meal as she strode through the ferns and grass to find the edge of the river. It was as clear as a crystal, flowing smoothly past her, fish sparkling underneath in the sun. Merlin gulped the water greedily, easily ignoring the slight salty tang it contained.

"I guess its going to be fish for lunch, then," she murmured to herself, searching for something to stab at the fish with.

She was no stranger to hunting, being Arthur's maidservant demanded that she must accompany him on his hunting trips. And fishing was much easier than it looked, so she had her food speared and roasting over a quickly-made fire in a matter of minutes. The scent of herbs filtered through her nose as she removed it from the heat, shutting off the fire by a mere lowering of her hand.

She was halfway through her fish when she heard it, the crunching of leaves under a boot, twigs snapping under the pressure of one's weight. Merlin's hands went to her sword, the curved hilt fitting like a glove into her hand as she carefully hid herself behind a tree nearby, straining her hearing for the person that was following her.

"Merlin?"

Merlin let out a small squeak of surprise, sheathing the blade at her waist as her mother came around the corner. "Mum! What are you doing here?!"

Hunith took in her daughter with a smile of relief. She had been expecting her only child to look more like skin and bones, but her face only held the same ancient exhaustion that her father's had borne with the same ancient knowledge as well. Her dark hair was already knotted with dirt and twigs and her deep eyes had become a bit wild, but she was still Hunith's little girl, the child that had such a destiny to bear.

Joy had filled Hunith when she had first discovered that she was pregnant. For years she had thought she would never be able to carry a child at all, let alone to term, but then her little miracle baby happened and it was like all of her dreams had come true. But then Balinor was forced to leave her to keep her safe before she had the chance to tell him that she was with child.

It was only thanks to Iseldir, a traveling Druid strong in magic, that she was even able to give birth. She had fallen ill as she had traveled back from a visit with her elder brother, Gaius, and Iseldir had found her purely by accident and assisted her as she went into labor.

She had been surprised and pleased to see that her little bundle of joy and happiness was a little girl, already with a shock of dark hair on her skull and blue eyes as dark as sapphires.

"She is a gift," he had told her, "she will guide Albion into a new age. She alone can save he who will unite us all."

She had always wondered how could her little girl really be that powerful, but her power was evident now for all to see.

"Prince Arthur sent some knights to Ealdor," she said, remembering that her daughter had asked her a question, "he's looking for you."

Merlin sagged at her words, but she had been expecting it. Her eyes darted behind the older woman, peering through the branches of the trees. "You could have been followed!"

"Your father taught me a few things before he left," Hunith said in a chiding voice, but Merlin ignored it. Her eyes glowed golden as she forced her sight further, in the direction that her mother had come from. She followed it for miles upon miles in a matter of seconds.

"Your trail has been found," she stated grimly, "they will find you, and me, in a matter of hours. You should have stayed away, Mother."

Hunith was more stunned at how she switched from Mum to Mother (she found she preferred it when her daughter called her Mum, she always sounded far too serious when she called her Mother). "Merlin, what happened? The knights wouldn't tell me a thing? Why aren't you with Prince Arthur?"

"Mother. I'm here because I am what I am," Merlin said in a despairing voice, "I slipped up, alright? I slipped up, and I used magic in front of him and I had to run, run before he burned me at the stake."

"Oh, Merlin…" The deep sadness and understanding pulled at Merlin's heartstrings. "The prince doesn't want you dead, you know that."

Merlin laughed hollowly. She remembered what her mother had said that day she, Arthur, Gwen, and Morgana had helped to best the brigand, Kanen and his band of thieves. She had said that Merlin and Arthur were two sides to the same coin, but that coin no longer had any value, certainly not to Arthur.

"No, I'm pretty certain that he does," she said, "and why shouldn't he? I have magic, so I am evil."

"Merlin-"

"Please, Mother, go," Merlin very nearly begged, "they will find you soon and you cannot be near me; I am dangerous. Take the road south and circle around back to Ealdor."

"And what about you?" Hunith demanded, cupping the chin of her daughter so that she was forced to look into her mother's eyes. "Will you be safe?"

"I will, Mother, I promise," she said, her tone solemn and serious. "Where I am going they cannot follow."

"And where are you going?"

"To the Isle of the Blessed."

Hunith's eyes widened. "Merlin, are you sure?"

Merlin gave her a small smile, kissing the crown of her head like she had so often done when Merlin was a child. "Not at all, but it is the best option for me now. I promise I'll send word to you soon, but I have to go."

"I understand," Hunith said with a soft voice as Merlin tied her bag tightly onto her horse's back as he rejoined them after a long drink at the river before hoisting herself onto the saddle. "Do take care of yourself, Merlin, if nothing else."

Merlin smiled. "I promise, Mother." She gave her hand one last squeeze before racing off in a direction that Hunith had never traveled in with barely a glance back. But Hunith caught the flash of gold in her eyes the second time that day and the hiss of a spell she did not recognize. **"Andslyht!"**

The wind rustled around Hunith, the tracks fading and making it seem as though Hunith had taken the trip to where she was for no reason.

Wind and branched collided as she leaned closer to Triton. The Isle wasn't too far away, now that she thought about it, but it had been harder to see in the darkness of the night before, so she wasn't surprised that she had stopped where she had the night before (despite that she had been mostly running on adrenaline).

"There it is!" she cried out as they finally rounded over the last hill to stop before the lake. She could feel the beaming smile breaking across her face at the sight of the ruined castle, its towers in a crumbling state on top of an island of lush green. "Look Triton, our new home!"

Triton nickered as if in agreement, heading right into the water once he realized it was not as deep as it seemed. The Cup of Life grew heavier in her bag as the waded further into the water, closer to its home.

Merlin glanced back, melancholy flitting across her face as she thought of all those that she was leaving behind.

Her mother, Arthur, Gwen, Leon, Gwaine, Gaius, and most importantly, Percival. The very thought of his name choked the breath from her lips, but he always had that habit, whether he was there to see it or not.

But her life in Camelot was over, much like her life in Ealdor, there was no going back. One could only move forward from this point, and that was what she intended to do.

Onward and ahead to the Isle of the Blessed, to hours upon hours of intense studying of the Old Religion and practicing of the art. On to priesthood. On to becoming the High Priestess that Iseldir knew that she could become.

On to becoming the Great Emrys.

On to life as a Warlock unhindered by fear of discovery.

**AN: And another chapter done! I am on a roll this week! Tell me what you all think, because I very much desire to know! This chapter took you lot backwards a little, but I felt that you all needed to know the journey Merlin took to actually reach the Isle before anything too major happens. Hope you all enjoyed it! PLEASE REVIEW!**


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